


in this place, just you and me

by reinacadeea



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, Shelter AU, Slight Internalized Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29518095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reinacadeea/pseuds/reinacadeea
Summary: Years after leaving SoCal, Lucas' stepbrother returns home after breaking up with his boyfriend and turns Mark's world upside down.or, a shelter au where mark takes care of his sister’s kid, kisses his best friend’s stepbrother and generally has a lot of feelings
Relationships: Mark Lee/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 12
Kudos: 80





	in this place, just you and me

**Author's Note:**

> This is fictionalized depictions of real people. Read at your own risk.
> 
> This work is inspired by the 2007 independent movie 'Shelter', which everyone should see at least once. I saw it probably ten years ago for the first time and everytime I see it, it holds up. It's so good. 
> 
> I've cast Jisung as Cody because Jisung is the maknae and was probably an adorable child. I needed someone to be the complete opposite of Yuta and no one is quite as different from him as Lucas, who also coincidentally reminds me of Gabe. I picked the name Mina because it's English enough and I want to stress that the character Mina bears no resemblence to real life people of the same name. This story deals with some internalized homophobia on Mark's part, but it is mostly tied into his environment and the way he grew up. I have tried to explore the church as a part of the Asien-American community in a respectful way. I intend no offense. 
> 
> All in all, it's a story about growing up and Mark does plenty of that in the story. Happy reading!

“Stay here in the shadows, okay?” Mark says and Jisung crosses his legs and sits down in the shadow of the highway shoulder, scribbling on the piece of paper Mark gave him earlier. 

Once he is sure Jisung won’t move, he turns back towards the car and pops the hood, already knowing that whatever is wrong with it is beyond his capabilities. He sighs and pulls out his phone and texts Lucas.

Are you close to 51st near Pasadena Beach? 

The call is instant and he presses accept. 

“Yo!” Lucas’ booming voice shouts. “Did your shitty car break down again?”

“Sort of,” Mark admits. “I need to get Jisungie home.”

“Sung Sung, my favourite boy!” Lucas says. “I’m in Palm Spring. Just call my loser stepbrother, okay. He’s home. I’ll send you his info.”

Before Mark can tell him he already has Yuta’s phone number, the phone freezes from the contact file Lucas is sending. He rolls his eyes at his shitty out of date iPhone and holds the power button down until it turns off. 

“Uh it’s Mark calling me!” an excited voice says over the phone after Mark spent a good five minutes hovering his finger over the number. “Are we getting that beer you promised that one time?”

“Hah, yeah of course!” Mark says overly cheerful. “Can you do me like a huge favour - like one those where I’ll be in your debt forever?”

He can hear excited shouting in the background of Yuta’s call, but all he can hear on his own end is the endless passing cars and no one stopping to help. 

“Tell me what you need first,” Yuta sing-songs. “I’ll decide what you owe me.”

“Like the kind of favour where my car broke down and I have to get Jisungie back for his bedtime,” Mark says in a rush. “But only if you’re like near Pasadena Beach. I don’t want to inconvenience you or anything.”

“Jisung is with you?” Yuta asks quietly and Mark hears him shouting goodbye to whoever he was with and the slam of a car door. 

“Of course,” he says. “He’s always with me.” He tells Yuta the type of the car and which exit is the nearest before joining Jisung on the other side of the shoulder, sitting down to wait mostly hidden from the warm evening sun. 

Yuta’s big yellow truck is big enough for his surfboards and probably about as expensive as Mark’s dad’s trailer home. It rolls to a stop behind Mark’s car about half an hour later, just as Jisung has started to complain about being hungry. 

“Just as soon as we get home, okay?” Mark reassures him, but by the wobble of Jisung’s lips, he’s already fighting a losing battle. He jumps over the shoulder and bends down to pick Jisung up, struggling despite Jisung doing all he can to help. They are both getting older. 

Yuta rolls down the passenger-side window, leaning over to wave at them. “Boys, Yuta-san is here to help in your hour of need.” 

“Hey, man!” Mark says and opens the back door, letting Jisung climb inside. 

Jisung waves cheerily and proudly states his name.

“I’ve known you since you were born, Jisungie,” Yuta grins and indicates with his hands the approximate size of a baby Jisung. 

Jisung is absurdly interested in being that small and asks about a million questions about babies that Yuta dutifully answers. 

Mark grins at them and indicates that he will go back to get their stuff from the car. Yuta waves him off, keeping his entire body turned towards Jisung. Mark gets the car seat out first and then his lone backpack and insurance papers. Luckily, there is not much else of value. In comparison, the old truck smells nothing like Yuta’s newer car, though they both share the perpetual blend of sand that is a mainstay for any surfer’s car. The board on the top is full of residue sand still clinging to the surface and Mark wonders if he cut his surf short to pick up his stepbrother’s friend. 

“Did you call a tow?” Yuta asks when he returns. 

“Mina’s boyfriend is coming after work,” Mark tells him and puts in the car seat, which Jisung dutifully climbs into once it is properly fastened. 

“I’m sorry for the trouble,” he says when they are all settled in. 

Yuta waves his hand and points it backwards to a brown paper bag. “Got you both watermelon. You’re probably hungry.” 

It’s insignificant but Mark is grateful. Yuta wouldn’t know watermelon is his favourite or that Jisung has been whining about food for the last half hour. He couldn’t possibly. 

“I can’t believe how quickly he grows,” Yuta says while putting the car in drive. “Has it already been that long?”

“When did you leave for San Francisco?” Mark asks. “Three years ago?”

“Three and a half, I think.”

“Yeah, I heard you went to Osaka, too,” Mark says. “How’s your mom?”

“Still a bigot,” Yuta says with a sigh. “Osaka is great though. You should go someday.”

Mark hands another piece of watermelon to Jisung. “Yeah, right.”

-

He walks to church like he does every Sunday, guitar slung over his shoulder and Jisung’s hand tight in his other hand. Jisung is tugging, wanting to run to his friends and Mark lets him go as soon as he sees Amber by the gate surrounded by the other pre-schoolers. She waves at him and he gives her a one-armed hug in greeting. 

She straightens his tie and beckons him inside. “You didn’t call yesterday.”

He laughs nervously. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says, looking down at her feet. “I guess we’re really broken up then.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “My car broke down.”

She shrugs and heads inside with eight small feet following behind her. 

The service is a lighthearted affair. He sits in the corner by the piano, accompanying his old music teacher. She is retired, barely able to move her fingers because of arthritis, but the days she stops coming to church, Mark is certain she will lose her will to live. Her eyes shine and while her voice keeps getting raspier, she still harmonises with the choir behind them. 

She ruffles his hair when the service ends, just like she does every Sunday and invites him and Jisung to eat lunch with her family. He lets her. 

He doesn’t eat with Amber’s family anymore, but still greets them with hugs and kisses. They are still a unit, barely, a mother and father and Amber’s two younger brothers. 

His arm is numb from carrying both his guitar and Jisung on the way home because it’s night and Jisung ate three full meals. There are a couple of single mothers who don’t mind watching him while Mark does Bible study and he is always miraculously fed and sleeping by the time it is time to go home at night. 

Every Sunday people ask why Mina is not coming anymore or if his dad is all right. He doesn’t have any good answers except he doesn’t have to think about them on Sundays because it is church day. 

-

It’s Mina’s turn with Jisung today, but like most days she finds excuses and Jisung is sitting happily in the backseat of Lucas’ car while they drive towards the beach. 

“I’m sorry,” Mark says again. 

“Dude, Jisung is my chick magnet,” Lucas says and turns up the volume of the music. It’s Frozen. 

“What’s a chick?” Jisung asks.

“It’s a girl chicken, Sung Sung,” Lucas says. “I’m the big manly chicken and you help me find girl chicks.”

Mark burst out laughing. “Don’t teach him that!” 

“Sung Sung is gonna be a heartbreaker, bro, just you wait!”

Amber and a couple of her girlfriends are already waiting at the beach, wearing enough clothes for the early morning, but Mark spots several flowery dresses beneath their coats. 

Jisung is already running towards her before Mark tells him to and he gives her a friendly wave that she reciprocates. He lifts his board out of the back of Lucas’ truck, only to spot Yuta’s car on the other end of the parking lot. He lifts his hand in another wave only to spot a guy coming up behind Yuta and gives him a quick kiss. 

Mark closes his mouth resolutely. 

He knew of course that Yuta found a boyfriend in college and went to live with him in San Francisco. He knew this rationally...

Yuta extracts himself from the guy and waves him off before zipping up his wetsuit and jogging over with his board. 

“I told him to come,” Lucas says. “He’s totally moping but doesn’t wanna admit it.” 

Yuta’s smile is blinding and his bleach blonde hair is tied into a bun on the top of his head. His shoulders are obscenely wide, his arms bulky and...

Mark swallows and looks away. 

“What’s up?” He says and holds his hand up in greeting, expecting a fistbump. 

Yuta instantly bypasses it and presses in for a tight hug. “I came because you’re here, Mark. Did you fix the car?” 

“Ugh,” comes the undignified reply from Mark. “Yeah, but like Mina is using it right now.”

A clear sign of distaste crosses Yuta’s face and Mark suddenly remembers they used to be in the same year in high school and he probably had a front row seat to Mina’s teenage pregnancy with Jisung’s non-existent father. 

“I’ll pick you up for that beer you promised me, then,” Yuta says with a wink and is off towards the sea. 

“Weirdo,” Lucas comments. “I’m glad we’re not related.”

As far as personalities go, Lucas and Yuta couldn’t be more different. They were thrown together by a whirlwind international marriage twelve years ago when Yuta’s father and Lucas’ mother at a convention in Hong Kong. Unable to decide between Hong Kong or Osaka, they moved to SoCal, which Lucas instantly took to, but Yuta struggled with. The two families could not have been more different culturally, leaving the two stepbrother in close quarters and they had unsurprisingly clashed from day one. It has settled into gentle ripping now with distance and age, but Mark vividly remembers the cultural clashes between Yuta’s strict Japanese upbringing and Lucas’ blend of SoCal Beach Bum and Hong Kong flair. 

Standing about a head taller, Lucas has never looked like the younger brother, but he always kind of bends down when he talks to Yuta, like he wants to hear what he has to say. 

Mark watches them get in the water and realises he has been left behind. He runs and runs until the water is high enough and he jumps on the board to paddle out. The water is easy and familiar and he can see Jisung playing from his board. For a moment, he lets go and enjoys the moment. 

-

Yuta touches him a lot, a hug, a hand on the small of his back, a hand brushing his hair. He is tactile and friendly. 

Mark likes the attention, likes the touch. 

In a rare twist of fate, Jisung is home with Mina for the night and Mark finally finds the time for that promised beer. Lucas is away with his college friends and nothing else matters much, except Yuta is making him laugh at his drag queen stories and his endless woes of overcoming his creative block. They are on the deck overlooking the ocean, the sun having set hours ago, huddling together for warmth. He is acutely aware of the hand on his wrist, just holding, a source of warmth that he can’t quite decipher. 

“Whatever happened to that scholarship of yours? CalArts, right?” Yuta asks softly. 

Mark looks away. “It wasn’t a full ride.”

“Liar.”

“I couldn’t defer it,” Mark tells him. “So I let it go.” 

“Because of Jisung?” 

Mark shrugs. “Mina. My dad.” 

“I’m sorry,” Yuta says and turns towards him. The hand moves up slowly and rests on Mark’s chest. Mark watches it and then looks up at Yuta’s dark eyes, wondering what exactly Yuta is asking. Maybe he knows when Yuta leans forward, maybe he expected it when he made sure Mina was home and came over with a six pack. 

Yuta caresses his cheek and suddenly there are lips against his own. Just a press. 

It’s nothing like Amber’s kisses or the three other girls he has kissed before. 

His heart pounds and when Yuta pulls away, he is both frozen and animated. He stares up at the polluted night sky and doesn’t move his hand away when Yuta tangles their fingers. 

-

He pretends his phone conked out when Mina complains he didn’t answer his calls, but in truth it is on silent and he is avoiding it. 

It’s easy to forget when Jisung demands his attention or Mina is screaming at him about her miserable life and all he can do is sit back and wonder why life is so hard for her when he finds so much joy in Jisung, in the waves, and the chords of his guitar. He is dirt poor and he spends everything he saves on guitar strings and clothes for Jisung because he grows like weed and his dad threw out all their childhood keepsakes when their mother died. 

Every night he prays that Jisung’s life will be bearable, that he will find happiness even though the concept seems both foreign and familiar to him. He prays for the food he eats because some nights he doesn’t eat because Mina got fired again or Dad needs new pills. 

The grind is relentless, so he goes back. 

It’s midnight, but he can see the light of Yuta’s room from the street below. He stares up at it, wondering what exactly brought him here. 

He knows one thing - he laughs easily, but there is no joy behind it. But when Yuta kissed him he felt something... missing? Maybe something fitting into place. 

He is knocking on the door before he can think himself out of it. His hands are sweaty and he hides them in his pocket, clenching his fists until he can feel his nails. 

The light turns on in the hallway and Yuta appears in over-sized clothes, his hair still styled for the day. 

A man. 

A man he wants to kiss. 

Yuta throws the door open. “Mark?” 

“Kiss me,” Mark says and reaches out for him. Yuta complies and their bodies slam together on the front porch. It is purposeful and forceful and Yuta holds onto him like he means it, his hands holding onto Mark’s jaw and tilting his head just slightly to gain access. Mark grabs onto the first thing between them, the oversized shirt Yuta is wearing, and doesn’t hesitate to pull it up to touch the hard planes of Yuta’s belly. 

Yuta draws back, still holding onto Mark, and pants heavily. “Come inside?”

Mark nods. 

Yuta’s old room used to have drawings plastered on the walls and anime in the bookcase. Those are all gone, but Mark recognises the room anyway from when he and Lucas used to steal the liquor Yuta used to hide underneath his bed. He fiddles with his hands while Yuta hastily cleans the floor from clothes and throws it onto a pile in the corner. “Sorry, sorry,” he mutters under his breath and Mark laughs nervously. “I didn’t really expect anyone.”

“Oh yeah, right, of course.” Mark couldn’t care less about the clothes. “But you like me, right?” He bites his lips, wondering if he will ever grow out of his awkward phase. 

“What gave it away?” Yuta says and wiggles his eyebrows. “The kissing?”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Mark says under his breath, looking at the floor.

He sees bare feet closing in and he shivers when Yuta touches his chin. “Look at me,” Yuta says and he does. “Trust me, I like you.” 

This time the kiss is slower and Yuta is more passive, only responding when Mark ventures out of his comfort zone to touch and feel. It feels more real to kiss Yuta in his childhood bedroom than years of a relationship with Amber ever did. There is no force, nothing in the back of his mind whispering that something is wrong. The fingers that touch him are rough but gentle and the muscled arms that he is gripping feels nothing like... it feels like Yuta. 

He loses time while he touches and searches for whatever it is that made him come here in the first place. It is the pounding of his heart, the goosebumps on his skin and the sounds Yuta makes when Mark pushes him backwards and onto the bed. 

“Tell me if I’m doing something wrong,” he says, towering over Yuta who is bare-chested and gloriously fit. 

Yuta hoist himself up on one arm and reaches for Mark with the other. Mark lets his hand be guided onto the outline of Yuta’s dick, visible through the soft material of his sweatpants, and watches the smirk on Yuta’s face widen Mark, breath hitches. 

“Is that answer enough?” Yuta says. 

Mark coughs. “Maybe show me more?”

“Okay, pull off my pants then, Mark Lee.”

He does. 

-

He wakes slowly, revelling at the soft madras and the silence around him. Increments of memory resurfaces, memories of...

“Shit,” he says and sits up. 

He is suddenly cold on his back and an arm slips from around his waist. 

“Lie back down,” a low voice protests from behind him and he whips his head around to stare at bleach blond tips of hair just visible underneath the sheet. 

“Yo, I gotta go,” Mark says hurriedly and slings his feet off the bed. 

“Mark, stay please,” Yuta pouts and Mark flushes at how incredibly naked they both are. 

“I gotta go,” he says more sternly, his gaze just quickly moving over to Yuta while he pulls his clothes on. 

Yuta is sitting up, arms folded around his legs as he watches Mark. He looks small compared to the confidence that he usually wears like an armour, so vulnerable, and for a brief insane moment, Mark considers it. He could stay. 

“Bye,” he throws over his shoulder as he high-tails it out. 

The ride home is... 

That was...

What just happened?

He laughs instead, something hysteric, something that doesn’t feel like himself. 

The phantom weight of Yuta’s body as it pressed close while the world was silent around him, the look in his eyes as he looked down at Mark like he mattered and... cared? Who was the person that spent the night with Yuta? Was it Church Mark or Boyfriend Mark? Uncle Mark? 

Maybe just Mark. 

Jisung is crying when he makes it home and Mina yells at him for being late and where was he the whole night anyway? 

Mark picks up Jisung, frowns at the sticky mess on his cheeks that is probably from the night before and goes to the bathroom. 

Jisung calms down when the door closes behind them and chatters on about dinosaurs like Mina hadn’t been yelling about how stupid he was just minutes before. 

Mark cleans the dirt on his face and pushes every thought about Yuta out of his mind. 

-

He is manning the Youth Choir stall when he spots Lucas towering over most of the other people attending the market. 

“Bro,” he says and they do their signature handshake. “You look beat.”

Lucas laughs. “College is killing me, man.”

“Partying too hard?” Mark says with a suggestive wink. 

“No, the homework,” Lucas says with a shrug. “I wanna do good, ya know.” 

There are deep rooted issues in that statement that Mark lets pass. Years of self-doubt has finally caught up with Lucas and he no longer finds the confidence he used to boast with as easily as before. He changes just a bit every time he comes back, just slightly but enough for Mark to notice. 

“Did you bring something for the drive?” Mark says instead and nods towards the stacks of clothes piling up at the nearby booth. 

Lucas nods eagerly and goes off to his car. 

Mark looks around the crowd and sees Jisung waving from the playground. He waves back. 

“You’re not answering my calls.”

He startles, nearly trashing into the plastic wall behind him, and spots Yuta with his arms crossed. “Oh hi,” he says awkwardly.

Yuta arches an eyebrow.

“My, uh, phone broke?” he says and hastily pockets his phone from where it is lying on the table to keep a couple of the brochures from flying away. The screen is cracked, but other than being old, nothing else is wrong with it. 

“Mark,” Yuta says exasperated. 

“Just drop it, okay,” Mark says and shifts his attention towards Lucas who is carrying way too many bags for one person. 

Yuta thankfully doesn’t poke further and helps his step brother deliver the bags at the drive. Mark catches him watching though and not just once or twice, but the whole day. 

Between about eight different Asian Moms trying to set up Lucas with their daughters and about every other auntie tutting at Yuta for his ‘lifestyle choices’, the day continues on like most other church markets that Mark has ever participated in. He accompanies the Kids’ Choir and Youth Choir on his guitar and watches Jisung sing his heart out loudly with the other kids his age and Lucas and Yuta shouting and clapping the loudest from their plastic chairs. There is so much happening that Mark shouldn’t be as out of it as he is, but Yuta’s eyes burn and he appears to be intentionally trying to make Mark’s life harder. 

Because Mark remembers how Yuta looks when he comes. He remembers the taste of Yuta when he tried to give him a blowjob and Yuta told him how to cover his teeth and breathe through his nose. But it is not the things he wants to remember at the church market. He wants to remember the chords and the lyrics of the hymn and be attentive and present when one of the younger teenage boys comes and asks him a serious question about things to do with Job - things that he usually takes seriously and is committed to helping with. 

“What happened to your shoes?” Mark exclaims when Jisung finally appears around dinner time, the smell of barbecue wafting through the air pleasantly. 

Jisung is wearing one shoe while he is carrying the other. The sole appears to be halfway ripped off and showing most of its inside. “I’m sorry,” he says with a trembling lip and big round eyes. 

Mark lifts him onto his lap. “Did it break while you were playing?” 

Jisung nods frantically. 

Yuta sets a paper plate down in front of them, stuffed to the brim with meat from the barbecue and colourful salads. He then sits another slightly less full but more child friendly plate down beside Mark’s. 

“Can you say, ‘thank you Yuta’?” Mark says pointedly and Jisung finds his most excited voice to profusely thank Yuta for bringing over food. 

Yuta lights up. “Of course.”

He must have eaten earlier because besides drinking juice, he simply just sits there while Jisung makes a mess of the barbecue sauce. 

“Are you just going to sit there?” Mark asks after a while. 

Yuta nods. 

“Why?” 

“Just because,” Yuta says with a shrug and a half-smile.

Mark wishes Lucas would come back from trying to get with one of Amber’s friends, one Mark is pretty sure Lucas has already been with. But he seems to be occupied and Yuta is here, not talking about what he obviously wants to be talking about. 

“Okay,” he says. “Do what you want.”

“I will,” Yuta says and winks. 

When the market finishes, he offers to drive them home, but since it’s only a short distance Mark declines. Jisung is clinging onto his back, a position he is used to, the fun of the day taking its toll on him. 

“Besides, you came with Lucas anyway,” Mark says. 

“He wouldn’t let you walk home,” Yuta tells him. “Just get in the car.”

“It’s really okay,” Mark tries again, but is eventually worn down by the stubborn look in Yuta’s eyes. 

The drive is silent, but he doesn’t mind, staring outside as they make it to a familiar neighbourhood. It is so different from where Yuta grew up, houses ramshackle and every other home in the shape of a rectangle. Mark wouldn’t even know what to do with a second floor, even less a third or even something as luxurious as a garden with a functioning pool.

“Jisungie,” Yuta says through the silence. “I have a surprise for you.” 

Jisung finds the plastic bag that Yuta points out and showcases a pair of sneakers. “Are they mine?”

“Of course, buddy,” Yuta says brightly. 

“Yuta,” Mark cautions, trying to keep the sharpness of his statement out of his voice for Jisung’s sake.

Yuta looks resigned. Sad. “They were at the drive, okay.” He parks at the curb, both hands clenched around the wheel. 

“I’ll pay you back,” Mark says and reaches for the wallet in his back pocket. 

“No!” Yuta says dejectedly. “That’s not...”

There are four one dollar bills and a twenty for groceries. There is no way he can pay Yuta back for a pair of Adidas sneakers, even if they are second-hand. Maybe not until the next...

“Mark, look at me.” 

Yuta’s voice is stern and he looks up awkwardly. “What?”

“It’s a present. I don’t want your money.”

“Can I keep them?” Jisung says from the back seat. “I love them.”

It’s humiliating because Yuta is being nice, so nice, and Mark would have spent the rest of the night gluing Jisung’s old shoes back together, knowing they might last until the next time he gets paid. Maybe Yuta can see it on his face, this ugly thing inside him, because he reaches out with a frown - maybe wanting to comfort, but Mark opens the car door instead, only feeling the tips of Yuta’s fingers grazing his wrist. 

“Just this once,” he says when he unfastens Jisung’s seat belt and pulls him out of the car. “Say goodbye now.”

Jisung waves over Mark’s shoulder, but Mark doesn’t look back. He only knows Yuta has left because the car revs up. 

“Was that Yuta Nakamoto?” Mina asks from the kitchen. “I haven’t seen him in years.”

Mark loosens the tie around his neck and undos the top buttons of his shirt, falling into the old sofa. “Yup.”

“Look at my new shoes,” Jisung exclaims and Mina actually crouches down to inspect them. “They’re just for me.”

“Let’s see if they fit,” Mina says and Mark watches her try to interact and how Jisung longs for it, preening at the attention. 

He is two beers in when Mina returns from putting Jisung to bed. She gets him a refill and takes one for herself, sitting down beside him. 

“You should have come today,” he tells her. “Everyone asks for you.”

She shudders. “Never,” she says vehemently. “Those old hags are always nagging me. I don’t understand how you can stand it.”

No one nags him. Mostly, it’s a refuge from the real world. Maybe in a different world it could have been hers too. 

“That Yuta though really knows how to pick shoes,” she says condescendingly. “Must be all the gay in his pinky.”

“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t say shit like that.”

She huffs. “I thought you were all for the rules of the Bible, Mark. Newsflash, baby bro, God hates the gays.”

He bites back a reply and merely ignores her. She always shuts up when she thinks he doesn’t care what she says. Eventually, after recounting the same old story of Yuta being thrown off the soccer team because he was caught kissing a boy, she stops talking and they sit there in silence. 

-

He knows Yuta is surfing because Instagram told him where. He parks the car near Yuta’s own car and waits, drumming his fingers on the wheel. The radio scratches and he finds the well-loved John Mayer album in the glove compartment. John Mayer croons while Mark watches the waves, wanting to join but knowing he will lose his nerve if he doesn’t get the conversation over and done with. 

About twenty minutes pass before he sees Yuta in his rear view mirror waving goodbye to his friends. He gets out of the car and Yuta stops when he spots him. 

“If you’re here to pay me back, I’m not interested,” he says. 

Mark swallows. “No, no, that’s, no.”

Yuta leans the board he is carrying onto the back of his car and unzips his wetsuit, all the while catching Mark staring. “You have something to say, then?”

The wind has picked up and the parking lot is completely abandoned of people because the waves are good. They are practically alone, so Mark steps forward, fastens his hands on Yuta’s upper arms and plants a kiss on his lips. He then abruptly loses his nerve and steps back. 

Yuta looks surprised. 

“Thanks,” Mark says. “For the shoes. I have to go to work now.”

Yuta still looks frozen. 

“I’m off at nine,” Mark continues. “Pick me up?” 

“Yeah?” Yuta says, voice hoarse. “I can do that.”

-

He’s tired of denying himself, but he doesn’t get a personality transplant overnight. There are no parts of him that is used to someone giving a fuck about wishing him goodnight and going out of his way to give him a ride. When they are surfing Yuta always has slices of watermelon in the back of the car and an extra t-shirt tucked in his duffel because no one had bothered to do the laundry at the house again. One night, he spends hours sitting with Jisung, patiently explaining the plot of a kids’ friendly anime while Mark is on hold with the insurance company because of the car. 

It’s different because it isn’t like with Amber where Mark was fumbling in the dark trying to do the right thing, but always always getting it wrong. Yuta is settled, calm, and unendingly understanding in a way that reminds Mark of his mother. He slowly finds himself opening up, letting his shields come down and finding space for another person in his life. It has been only Jisung for so long that the security of being able to pick up his phone and knowing there will be food on the table lull him into a new state of complacency he didn’t know could exist. 

Yuta wrings out pleasure from his body that he didn’t even know it could feel. These are the things Mark finds the most surprising. For so many years, he wondered why he didn’t like it, didn’t feel quite right when Amber touched him in an intimate way, but he understands himself now, understands that maybe Amber wasn’t the answer to his problems. 

Instead, it is his best friend’s older brother. Step brother, but he is pretty sure there is still some bro-code he is breaking. 

Yuta lets him set the pace, patiently lies back when all Mark wants to do is touch and explore the different ways he can make Yuta’s breath hitch and his hands clench. They never go far and Mark knows they need to have the conversation at some point, the conversation he dreads, because it starts and ends with ‘marriage’. 

All of this plays out underneath Lucas’ nose. 

“He won’t care,” Yuta says one early morning where Mark is already up because he has to go to work. He is clinging to Mark’s back, kissing his neck and Mark lets him because it is nice to be wanted. 

“I care,” he says and spits out the toothpaste in the sink because he has a toothbrush there now.

Yuta’s hand sneaks underneath his shirt and spreads out on Mark’s belly, making Mark shiver from the intimacy of the moment. “I can talk to him,” Yuta offers. 

“No,” Mark says. “Let’s just keep it between us, okay?”

Yuta pulls away and instead leans against the sink, looking intently at Mark with his piercing gaze. “I don’t want to be a secret forever.”

Mark scoots closer and presses their foreheads together. “Yuta,” he whines and presses featherlight kisses to Yuta’s plumb lips. Yuta responds to the kisses, quickly heating up the moment, knowing that Mark has to leave. 

“Mark Lee,” he says. “You’re lucky I’m crazy for you.” 

Yuta is free with his affection. He touches without prejudice, likes holding hands and finds pleasure in the closeness of bodies. It’s pure, Mark thinks, touching without expecting rejection. Despite being bullied in school for being different, Yuta quickly found better friends and found a peace with himself that Mark desperately wants. 

Mark already knows Yuta likes him because he can tell - he can feel it in the way that Yuta touches him and wants to hold him. Mark has never been like this, has never actively sought out affection, but the only plausible comparison he can come up with is how he wants Jisung to feel affection, because Jisung deserves to not end up like him. He wants Jisung to actively seek out hugs and holding hands because every time Yuta tries to hold Mark’s, Mark flinches and moves away only to see the hurt in Yuta’s eyes. 

Yuta’s frank admission is nothing new under the sun, but what is new is Mark wanting to change, so he closes the distance between them even further and just kind of holds Yuta. 

Yuta sighs and kisses his earlobe. “Text me when you’re off.” 

“Okay,” Mark says. “I have Jisung tonight, though.” 

“I’ll make sure to pack a sandwich for him,” Yuta says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 

“Sandwich?” 

“We’re going on a picnic and you’re gonna like it,” Yuta tells him. 

The day passes with boring monotony while he puts away groceries, humming beneath his breath and scribbling in his notebook during his breaks.

He takes a seat on the bench near the personal entrance when he gets done and texts Yuta. 

Be right there, is Yuta’s prompt reply. 

“You can have the car tonight,” he tells Mina who will take the next shift. 

She gives him a suspicious look. “Your date is picking you up?” 

Jisung is already crawling into his lap and Mark takes the distraction instead of answering. 

“I have friends, you know,” he tells her instead. 

She snorts, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. “Not ones that make you stay overnight.”

Their boss shouts from the personal entrance and Mark asks Jisung to wave goodbye to his mother. Mina’s smile seems genuine enough, but he can never really tell. 

Yuta pulls up five minutes later with a toothy smile. “My favourite boys!” he shouts through the open window. There are packed coolers and enough toys to entertain Jisung for the day plus the car seat that mysteriously appeared shortly after their, uh, thing started. 

Mark doesn’t remember the last time he felt this settled.

-

The other shoe drops unexpectedly on one of those quiet nights where it is just them in the big quiet house. They are on the patio, a bottle of wine open, and Mark is strumming his guitar, singing whatever comes to his mind. Yuta is curled on his side, just kind of watching, and Mark can’t quite keep his eyes from looking. 

“You’re really good,” Yuta says. “You are so good.”

“Just average,” Mark sings. “Just plain, no gain, knowing it’s completely in vain.”

He runs his fingers down the strings and lets the sound fade - only the faint sound of the waves is heard from afar. 

“Don’t stop,” Yuta says softly. 

Mark puts the guitar down and crawls along the cushions until his front is pressed against Yuta’s back. He pulls the long strands of Yuta’s hair to the side and presses kisses to the back of his neck. 

“Really don’t stop,” Yuta moans when Mark’s hand finds him underneath his shorts and grips just right. He presses his own hard-on against Yuta’s ass and rubs slowly up and down with the same rhythm as his hand. He is in no hurry, maybe slightly drunk, and the only thing he can think of is wanting Yuta’s undivided attention.

He doesn’t know when he makes the decision, but once he makes it, once he asks for it, he knows he can’t take it back. He doesn’t take it back when Yuta showers, doesn’t take it back when he lies gloriously naked on the bed or when Yuta says ‘it’s okay, just push’. So Mark pushes into him, almost cries with how wild it makes him feel. Yuta holds him so close, thighs locked around his waist, while Mark thrusts forward. He has never been so close to another person before and he is desperate with the euphoria, the sheer magnitude of the feeling. 

He doesn’t regret it because Yuta whispers that he’s doing so good, that he is amazing and it feels so good. He comes too quickly, but he is wrung out on ‘something’ he doesn’t know how to describe. 

“It’s okay, baby,” Yuta whispers into his ear when Mark laugh/cries. 

And Mark agrees, because he feels good, so connected to another human being. “Thank you,” he replies and falls asleep in Yuta’s embrace.

The moral hangover bludgeons itself to his conscious the next morning. 

Yuta is awake, watching him propped up on his elbow. “Don’t freak,” is the first thing he says when he feels Mark stiffen. 

“What did I do?” Mark says. 

“There is nothing wrong with what happened,” Yuta says. “Please...”

There is bile building in his throat and he stumbles out of bed, realises he is completely naked, and finds the trash bin underneath Yuta’s desk. There are hickeys on his chest, visible hickeys, and legs feel like he has played five rounds of basketball. 

“I though... I thought you wanted it.”

Yuta’s voice is small and insecure, nothing like the person Mark usually knows. 

Mark finds his discarded shirt on the floor and wipes his mouth, before pulling on a sweatshirt, just to recover some semblance of modesty. “I am so sorry,” he says. “I fucked up so bad.”

“I thought you wanted me.”

He closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to confront the reality in front of him. A reality where Yuta is hurt, too. 

Before he can say more, the front door is slammed open and Lucas’ booming voice sounds throughout the house, reaching Yuta’s room with ease. 

“You have a guy over, bro! Rando Dude, get up!” 

Mark scrambles up, despite the churning of his stomach and pulls on a pair of shorts before throwing Yuta a shirt so he doesn’t look completely debauched. The end result of their mad scramble is Mark pushing his underwear beneath the bed when Lucas opens the door. 

“Mark? The fuck?” Lucas says but doesn’t seem overly concerned with the general messiness of the bed. “Did you raid my mom’s wine cabinet? Please, say that you did?” 

“We did,” Yuta says, clearing his throat. “Mark’s been sick the entire morning.”

Mark laughs awkwardly. 

“Red wine is nasty, bro,” Lucas says, nodding as if he understands and throws a hazard arm over Mark’s shoulders. “Been there.” 

The moral hangover? Mark is pretty sure he already knows Lucas’ top five worst moral hangovers. Sleeping with your best friend’s sorta brother is Mark’s top one. 

He’s sure Lucas must have sensed something off, but Lucas doesn’t say anything. He simply makes bacon on the pan in the kitchen and serves Mark a plate of bacon and chips alongside a can of coke. 

Mark hears the shower turning on upstairs and hunches in on himself, trying to follow along Lucas’ story about his Econ professor, while munching on the bacon nervously. It is a story worth his attention on a good day, but his attention strays to the small pile of mail sitting at the corner of the kitchen. He reaches out when Lucas looks away and pushes the local newspaper away and cautiously pulls out the brown paper envelope closer. His eyes are slow to react because his glasses are still upstairs, but the CalArts logo is easily recognisable. 

MARK LEE  
CC: YUTA NAKAMOTO 

The names are bold on the front and Mark’s heart thunders in his chest. The letter is thick like the one he received years ago when he was accepted, but it can’t possibly be that. Yuta wouldn’t. Would he? 

He feels Yuta at his side rather than see him. His smell is overpowering and Mark wishes he hadn’t seen Mark seeing the letter at all. 

“Open it,” Yuta says softly. 

Mark quickly glances at Lucas who is engrossed in his phone in front of the stove, absently stirring eggs on a pan, and opens the letter with the butter knife beside his plate of bacon. There is a brochure for The Herb Albert School of Music at CalArts, a long list of specialisations and events for the upcoming semester and a time and place for a final audition and interview. 

“What?” He says mostly to himself and skims the letter. The admission letter. Not a rejection. The audition and interview is merely a formality because of his earlier acceptance. 

“Did you get in?” 

“Lucas!” Mark says and pushes himself away from the breakfast table and most importantly Yuta. “Can you drive me home?” 

Lucas looks up from his phone. “Right now?” 

“I can drive you home,” Yuta says helpfully. 

“I’m good,” Mark says Yuta’s way. “Please, Lucas?”

It’s only when they are close to his house that he realises he forgot his glasses, but that the acceptance letter is still clutched in his hand.

-

It’s Sunday and the familiarity of putting on his best clothes and carrying his guitar over his shoulder and holding Jisung’s hand on their way to church is what keeps him sane. Jisung is and always has been his biggest source of happiness despite his shitty life. 

He sets up beside his old teacher at the front and greets Amber’s parents who are already seated. 

“Can Jisung sit with you today?” He asks despite Amber’s mother already having handed Jisung a lollipop from her bag. 

Her smile is wide and warm when she nods in reply. There is regret in his stomach, but maybe resignation too. Whatever he and Amber once had is over and he won’t be able to rekindle it again. It wouldn’t be fair to her if he tried. 

This way the only one he deceives is himself. 

At the end of the service, he sees Yuta sitting at the back of the church by himself looking completely out of place despite the nice black slacks and button up he is wearing. He is just sitting there, head down, while he waits, giving Mark plenty of opportunity to just watch undisturbed while he plays the final psalm. 

He watches while the congregation moves outside and Jisung excitedly gives Yuta a hug which Yuta returns with so much tenderness that Mark aches. Aches. It is only then that Yuta looks up and catches him staring. 

Mark looks away and gets up from his chair, lifting his guitar by its long neck and putting it away in its case. He flicks it shut and makes sure to gather the chords in the brief they came in and maybe he found a little courage, too. 

When he finally looks up, Yuta is sitting in the front row. 

“You scared me,” Mark says and tries to calm his surprised heart. 

“Sure,” Yuta says. 

His legs are spread wide and his collarbone is peaking out from his shirt while his hair has been tamed into a conservative pony tail unlike his usual top knot. Mark only realises his mouth is open because his lips are dry and he coughs awkwardly, because Yuta dressed up in nice clothes and went to a Sunday service just so they could talk. 

Mark leaves the guitar on the piano bench and jumps the few stairs to reach the floor. He sits down beside Yuta and wrings his hands, trying to come up with a plausible excuse for not having called him since ‘that’ night five days ago. 

“Are you okay?” Yuta's voice is small in the large space. 

Mark mulls it over. Is he? Should he be?

“I know you think you broke some promise to God or whatever...” 

“Not whatever,” Mark interrupts him. “It’s not whatever.”

Yuta bites his bottom lip. “But we’ve been having sex for months, Mark.”

Mark wills the image away. So not appropriate. “Not that kind,” he says under his breath. “Not like that.” 

Yuta rolls his eyes. “Waiting until marriage then?”

Mark stays silent, which makes Yuta’s eyes widen and a sudden understanding crosses his eyes. 

“Uh fu... frick,” he says. “Really?”

Mark shrugs. 

“You didn’t sleep with Amber?” Yuta asks in disbelief. 

“No,” Mark replies. “I wouldn’t.”

Yuta sits back and looks at the same time relieved and sad. “I thought it was the...” he whispers “the gay thing?”

Mark bites his tongue hard. “It’s not ‘not’ that. It’s also that, but it’s mostly...”

“Jisung?” 

“Yeah. Giving him a sense of family that doesn’t bail on him,” Mark tells him. 

Yuta’s stare is heavy and Mark looks away because Yuta can see him now, completely. 

“I’m not ready to get married,” Yuta says. “It doesn’t mean the same thing to me like it does to you.”

“I know,” Mark says, resigned. 

“But...” 

He looks at Yuta and sees him biting his lip, looking like he is trying to pick the right words.

“I could make you happy,” he says, his voice so low that Mark can barely hear them. “It’s only like a ten minute drive to CalArts from my apartment, you know.”

Mark doesn’t know what to say. Everything is so jumbled up in his brain - it’s so hard to find the right solution. “I can’t take that kind of gamble,” he finally says and feels false and truthful at the same time. 

Yuta sighs resigned and hands Mark his glasses, the ones he forgot in a hurry to get away from the big house and his shame. 

“You don’t have to do this,” he says and Mark looks away. “Bye Mark.”

Mark turns to look after him when he leaves the church and he feels regret, so much regret. At that moment, he wants all of it. He wants Yuta to come back, he wants to run after Yuta and tells him he can do it. But then he thinks about Jisung and he knows in the end there is only one choice.

-

Lucas never comes to the house, but when he does the red blush on Mina’s cheeks never changes. Despite being older and despite having known him as an awkward teenager, she always had a weird crush on him, one Mark found equal parts amusing and kinda gross. 

“Bro!” Lucas yells through the living room and Mark’s dad startles from his stationary seat in front of the television. “Yo bro!” 

“You want a beer, Lucas?” Mina asks with her big eyes and he gives her one of his patented full smiles. 

“Nah, I’m driving,” he tells her. “Thanks though.”

Jisung squirms in Mark’s hold. 

“Wait,” Mark says, trying to button his shirt. “Juuuust a moment.”

Jisung runs towards Lucas excitedly when he is finally ready and Lucas bends down to pick him up, smacking a large raspberry onto Jisung’s cheek, making the boy scream in joy.

“Jisung!” Mina says scandalised. “Keep your voice down!”

“He’s just excited,” Lucas tells her and it’s only because Mark knows him so well that he can tell he is being pointedly cheerful towards her. 

“Bro, let’s go, bro,” Mark says and pulls his guitar bag over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Mina asks curiously but her tone of voice is sharp and he gives her a warning with his eyebrows. Do you care, he tries to convey, and she does but not enough to stop them. 

He shoos away the couple from three doors down that has been in and out of prison for theft for as long as he can remember who are eyeing Lucas’ big shining car parked at the curb and puts in Jisung’s car seat. 

“Let’s go, bro!” Jisung shouts from the backseat when Lucas starts the car and they are off. 

Mark chatters nervously the whole way, talking about the song he is thinking about singing on Sunday and what to buy for breakfast. When he runs out of things to say Lucas takes over and talks on about his classes and the parties he has planned. But his leg still thumps against the bottom of the car’s floor and his right hand tabs nervously on the door handle. 

Lucas parks at the drop-off spot outside the building and Mark bites his lips absently, looking up at the writing proudly proclaiming ‘CALARTS’. 

“We’ll get ice-cream,” Lucas says to which Jisung chimes in with a ‘yeah’ and Mark nods. 

He gets out, finds the guitar case in the back and gives Jisung a hug for good luck. 

“Sing your heart out!” Jisung shouts through the open window and Mark waves. 

He enters the school with Lucas’ luck ringing in his ears. He will do good. There is no other choice. 

-

He is in the middle of a Dua Lipa song with both Jisung and Lucas singing along - not very harmoniously - when they make it to the beachfront house. There is an unfamiliar pick-up truck in front of the open main entrance and some guy Mark doesn’t know is carrying out a box marked ‘clothes’. 

“He’s really moving,” Lucas comments with a frown. “I thought he was joking.”

Yuta comes out of the house with a sports bag slung over his shoulder, dark sunglasses perched on his nose. Mark can’t see his eyes but can somehow feel his gaze anyway. 

“His lease started last month,” he says, remembering Yuta talking about it far too casually for someone who didn’t have ulterior motives. It had been the three of them, Jisung conked out on the sofa in front of the television, and Yuta had stood with his entire front pressed against Mark’s back, trying to explain in the most distracting way possible how to fry eggs. That had been two weeks ago and Mark had been too afraid to ask why he hadn’t moved into the new apartment because he knew why. 

“Why haven’t you made up yet?”

Lucas’ words are soft, nearly drowned out by the bass which makes the admission all the more startling. 

Mark whips his head around. “I...” The words stick in his throat and he watches Yuta wave at Jisung who has already managed to get out of the car seat and is struggling with the door. 

“The fact that it’s my brother is kinda weird, man,” Lucas continues casually. “But the whole gay thing is, you know, whatever.”

“I’m not...”

“You are. I’ve known for like two years.” 

Jisung gets the door open and sprints towards Yuta who gathers him into his arms and pulls him up and onto his hip. 

Mark aches. 

Yuta’s friend is leaning against the pick-up, but he bends down to take Jisung’s hand to greet him and Mark is out of the door in seconds, his heart hammering in his chest. 

“Yuta’s busy, Jisung,” he says and gestures. “Come on.”

Jisung pouts but squirms out of Yuta’s loose embrace. 

Yuta looks about as pained as Mark feels. 

“You’re really going, then?” He asks and feels Lucas coming up behind him.

“Yeah,” Yuta says. “No reason to stay.”

Mark laughs awkwardly because he made his own fucking bed and expecting a different outcome is for privileged people. And he has never been one of those. “Okay, uh, see you around then.”

“Mark...” Yuta says, looking pained. 

“Tell Yuta goodbye, Jisung,” Mark interrupts whatever he was about to say. “He has to go back to his real life now.”

Jisung clings to his leg and Mark caresses his hair in reassurance. “Bye,” he says in a tiny voice. 

To go from being on top of the world to feeling like a piece of shit in five minutes flat is not a new feeling, but there is an edge to watching the pick-up truck leave that he thinks is bitterness. 

Lucas doesn’t say much. He turns the television onto Disney Channel and turns up the volume so Jisung can’t hear Mark dry heaving into a pillow on the lounge chair outside. He is too stubborn for tears, but if he was the kind of guy who cried this would be one of those moments. He hasn’t cried since his mother died and being unhappy is such a perpetual fact of his life that being left to fend for himself once again isn’t as much of a surprise as he thought it would be. But it stings. 

“You’re allowed to be fucking happy,” Lucas tells him from where he is sitting on the other lounge chair facing him. “I’m pretty sure Yuta has been half in love with you since you beat him in that surfing competition.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Mark says, voice muffled by the pillow, which promptly disappears into the pool. 

“He’s gay, you’re gay. Go be fucking happy and gay together,” Lucas says sternly, gesturing with his hands. “It’s not that hard.”

“It is that hard actually.” He steals the pillow from Lucas’ chair and folds it against his abdomen. “There’s the church and...”

“You’re just scared.”

He is scared. 

What if Yuta won’t like him in a year and regret being with someone raising a child? Jisung loves him and the thought of breaking Jisung’s... 

The thought of Yuta’s bright smile in the morning when he sees Mark waking up.

The thought of Yuta patiently sounding out Japanese words to Jisung. 

The thought of... the feeling of... 

“I’m not like you, Lucas!” He bites back instead. “Things don’t just work the fuck out.”

Lucas’ lips thins. 

Mark presses his head against the pillow. “Fuck I’m sorry.” He rocks back and forward for a bit until the jittery feeling in his body gets too much and he pads along the pool side. 

The next thing he knows, he is in the pool. He stays underneath for a shocked moment, watching a blurry Lucas hovering on dry land. He breathes in deep, coming up for air and sputters mock-outraged towards his best friend. 

Lucas does eventually pull him out of the pool with a smile on his lips and a casual air of indifference. The one he shows when he is actually hurt but is trying to keep it from showing, one he usually only reserves for his mother. Mark hates that he put it there, that he lashed out and Lucas was just in the way. 

They are back on the lounge chairs when Mark finds his voice again. “You should be happy, too, you know.”

Lucas fans out his arms and indicates towards the pool, the ocean and the big house. “I’m always happy.”

They are both liars. 

-

Life... kinda happens. 

He is saving for a new car but he needs a computer too for CalArts. He has been offered some student housing, but he won’t be able to bring Jisung there, which means he will probably only stay there for the early classes and be back at the house the rest of the time. Hence the need for a car and a computer. 

It’s not ideal, any of it, but his mind is bursting with chords and compositions and the thought of having an actual education doing music seems a bit beyond what he is allowed to have. He will be a bit older than the rest of the students, have a bit more life experience, and that will be okay, he thinks, because unlike them he might know what he wants. 

He is about five hundred dollars into his goal when Jisung breaks his arm. 

He is practising with the Youth Choir when Mina barges in with a sobbing Jisung in her arms. It is just a Wednesday, just any ordinary day, but somehow when she hands Jisung over Mark can already tell that something has changed. 

“Make him stop!” she says desperately, her makeup running down her cheeks. 

The boys and girls stay completely silent while Mark checks the arm that Jisung is holding towards himself. 

“Mina, his arm is broken!” he says sharply. 

She fidgets, looking away. “Can you fix it? I’m just... Karl got a job in Portland and he says no kids.”

“What? How can you even think about this right now?” 

“It’s best Jisung stays with you,” she says. “You’ll take care of him, right?”

Jisung sobs against his shoulder and Mark can’t tell if it’s only from his broken arm. He can feel the eyes of the choir members and it’s embarrassing. 

“Just go,” he tells her and she sprints out of the practice room with one last look behind her. 

One of the members who he knows is also in JROTC comes forward and ties a makeshift splint around Jisung’s arm. Another boy, David who is just sixteen, offers to drive and Mark accepts heartily. 

The free clinic that he usually takes Jisung to is an hour and a half away, but he can’t ask David to drive that far or for that matter stand Jisung’s pain, so they go to the closest hospital, a hospital that will charge too much for an X-ray. 

He is running his fingers through Jisung’s hair with one hand and with the other he pulls out his phone. He hovers over Yuta’s phone number and decides that he doesn’t want to do it alone. 

-

“The bill is paid for,” the secretary says. 

Mark hoists Jisung higher onto his hip. “Excuse me?” 

She stares over his shoulder and he turns to see Yuta dosing in the waiting room with his arms folded and his head resting against a vending machine. 

He walks over slowly and stares for an undisturbed moment, quickly disrupted by Yuta’s head falling to the side and he returns to awareness. 

“You came,” he says in a whisper because Jisung is sleeping against his shoulder. 

“You called,” Yuta says softly. He gets up from his seat and indicates that he will take Jisung. Mark hesitates, but his arm is starting to cramp and Yuta is offering. 

Yuta is still offering. 

Hands run through the fine hairs at the back of Mark’s neck and he shivers, letting himself be pulled forward just a bit until his forehead is resting against Yuta’s. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry.”

“We will be okay.”

It’s not okay when they go back to the house and Mina’s stuff is gone and his dad is complaining about the dishwasher being broken. It’s not okay because Jisung’s cries are heartbreaking and awful from pain and abandonment and Mark doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know how to tell a child that his mom doesn’t want him, didn’t care enough to stick around when things got tough. It’s not okay because when he packs his things from the only house he has ever lived in and realises that his own things barely fit in his backpack. 

It is okay, though, because Yuta is patiently letting Jisung cry in his arms while they wait in the car outside the house. He is singing under his breath when Mark brings out the final box of Jisung’s things and merely hands Mark the keys to the car so that they can leave.

He remembers meeting Yuta for the first time when he was thirteen and Yuta was a cool teenager. He remembers the first time Yuta lied to his dad when Mark scratched the Mercedes with his skateboard and the wine coolers they all got drunk on when Mark turned fifteen. He remembers Yuta getting him chips and coke for the hangover the next day. 

He remembers the surfing competition, that one legendary one, where Mark beat Yuta with a hair margin and he was on top of the world because that was a moment where all his hard work had paid off and no one could take it from him. Yuta had accepted the loss with a toothy smile and a wink, typing his number into Mark’s phone and parting with words that Mark struggled with for years afterwards. 

Call me sometime.

They weren’t particularly Earth-shattering, but when he goes back to a moment where he first knew he was a bit different - this is one of the first ones he remembers, Yuta back-lit from the morning sun, bleached hair stiff and wild from the saltwater and the first of many scattered tattoos already on his chest. 

Yuta no longer looks like a surfer boy even though his hair is still long, but at his core he is still the same. He is the same and so much more. Maybe Mark can relax, maybe he can allow himself a glimpse of happiness that so many people seem to write music about. Maybe he can even write songs about love and happiness and know what he is talking about. 

His heart is full of Yuta. 

Yuta’s apartment is still mostly empty, but he has got a floor-length painting leaning against one wall depicting a view that Mark recognises is from his favourite surfing spot, the one spot where they had a picnic once. It isn’t the same as living near the ocean, but the apartment is new-ish - there is no rot from the flash flood two years ago or stains from his dad’s cigarettes on the carpet floor. In fact, it’s wooden floors and it’s on the first floor with a little terrace facing towards a common area. Jisung can play there and he won’t have to worry about broken glass or other shit lying on the ground. 

“It’s nice,” he stammers out. 

Skinny arms work their way around his waist and underneath his loose shirt. Lips press against the pulse point of his neck and he leans away from it, allowing Yuta’s lips easier access. 

“We’ll put a bed in the office for Jisung,” Yuta whispers against his skin and turns Mark towards what he now knows is the office. “And we’ll get a big dinner table so we can both work there.”

“Jisung has never slept alone before,” Mark tells him and casts a glance towards Jisung spread out on the couch, finally having fallen into an exhausted sleep in the car. 

Yuta slithers around and holds Mark’s face in his hands. “One day at the time, okay?”

Mark nods. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Yuta says softly and his eyes are red. 

Mark runs a finger over Yuta’s cheekbones and pulls him close, pressing their lips together. “I’ve been dreaming about your lips,” he whispers. 

“Me too. Me too,” Yuta says and somehow that part works out well, too.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on twitter as reinacadeea. come say hi!


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